Pickles and Fries
by xXACCEBXx
Summary: You and I are like Pickles and Fries. In theory it sounds gnarly, but in practice...it's pretty amazing" Seddie Oneshot


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One of the reviewers on my last oneshot told me to write a lot of fluff. I'd like to think this is…the Staypuft Marshmallow Man eating Cotton Candy on a cloud with the Michelin Man and a few dozen kittens. This story is also proof that I find the weirdest inspiration.

**P I C K L E S & F R I E S**

"What could you possibly be frying at two in the morning?" I asked. I probably shouldn't have. Some things you would never want to know. I took one look at the back of her head and knew this was probably one of those things.

"Fries," she said matter-of-factly. "Duh"

I shook my head and looked hesitantly at Carly, asleep in the armchair, "So much for staying up all night, huh?"

Sam took one look over her shoulder before turning back to the stove, "I think she shuts down at one automatically. The only time I've seen her stay up longer was the night she played Packrat all night, and she was out the whole next day."

I went back to watching the cheesy horror movies Sam had insisted on, currently "Frankenstein and the Wolfman Go to Vegas." I heard the stove turn off and the fridge open.

"Do you know where they keep the pickles?" she said. I could hear her moving jars around, and I was hesitant to acknowledge the question.

"I thought you were making French Fries?" I asked, turning to make sure she could see my face.

"What, you've never had pickles and fries?" she answered, standing up and glowering over the door.

"No, I can't say that I have," I said, shaking my head and turning back to the TV.

"Move your feet," she said as she stepped over me, a plate of fries in one hand, two Peppy Colas in the other, and a jar of dill pickle chips in the crook of her arm. She threw one of the cans at me before settling in with her…pickles and fries.

I watched her as she folded a pickle around a fry before popping it in her mouth. I grimaced at the concept.

She looked at me, a smile playing on her lips and asked, "You wanna try some?"

I shook my head and muttered "Pass" before getting up to change the DVD.

"Okay, now that we've watched that…crap, it's time for Alfred Hitchcock. Rear Window or The Birds?"

"Nope. The Birds gives me nightmares. I can't even see more than three birds together anymore without freaking out."

I shook my head. Of all the things for Miss Fearless to be afraid of…

"Rear Window it is," I said, sliding the DVD in before dropping back on the couch.

The movie started, and Sam managed to go without comment for all of twelve seconds, "Why can't you just watch Disturbia like a normal teenager? It's the same movie; just one is about forty years newer."

We'd had this same argument a million times. She was only doing it to rile me up.

"We've gone over this a thousand times Samantha. A, Alfred Hitchcock is the horror master, and B, James Stewart is twelve times better than Shia LeBeouf."

I expected her to be withdrawn because I hadn't fought back, but instead, I caught her smiling, quietly eating her pickles and fries. I will never understand the way she thinks.

Ten minutes later I heard her mumbling something. I looked over and asked, "Did you say something?"

She repeated just a little louder, "You're right about the James Stewart thing. He makes Shia LeBeouf look like a bowl of congealed macaroni and cheese."

I couldn't respond. That was officially the first time Sam had ever let me win an argument. Instead of acknowledging the strange occurrence, I asked, "So, how are the fries?"

"Crunchy," she said, popping another in her mouth. "You sure you don't want some?"

I held my hands up and she shrugged. I went back to watching the movie, but I found myself distracted by the girl next to me. I kept sneaking looks at her while she was focused on the movie. I could see her smile highlighted in the glow of the TV. Her perfect lips curved…

My eyes shot back to the TV as she noticed me staring. She had the decency to avoid talking about it, but I knew I'd hear about it at a "better" time. When she needed blackmail. Lots of it.

"You know, we're kind of like pickles and fries," she said, still smiling at catching me in the act.

"I don't follow," I said, trying not to look at her.

"Well," she started, popping another in her mouth, "the idea of pickles and fries together sounds pretty gnarly, right? But in practice, it's pretty amazing."

I looked over to make sure I heard her correctly, but her eyes hadn't moved from the screen. Was I interpreting this correctly? Was she saying that we, as a cast on iCarly were amazing? Or that we, as friends were amazing? Or…

Or were she and I as a couple…amazing?

She watched my hand as I reached over to the plate of fries on her lap and into the jar of pickles. Against my better judgment, I folded the pickle around the fry and popped it into my mouth.

Surprisingly enough, it tasted good. Really good.

But then there was another taste in my mouth. The taste of Sam's lips, as her lips collided with mine. I was frozen with surprise, before my lips responded to hers, moving in sync. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she pressed me further and further into the arm of the couch. Before I could even think of what I was doing, I rolled over onto my side, pushing Sam into the back of the couch, giving her nowhere to go as I held her waist in my hands.

I drew back when I heard a soft groan behind me, and I remembered that Carly was in the same room. That made all of this seem so…dirty.

I stayed a tempting few inches from her lips as I caught my breath. Her cheeks were a thousand shades of pink as she did the same.

I let out a chuckle when I noticed a stray fry had landed in her hair. I pulled it out and we both laughed.

"One sec," she said quietly as she sat up and reached for the jar of pickles. She took one out and handed it to me. I adjusted myself so she was lying on top of me before I wrapped the fry and threatened to put it in my mouth. The second before it hit my lips, she leaned in and took it in hers, and we met in the middle, giving me the opportunity to use my tongue in ways it'd never been used before.

I pulled away again, and she asked in the most flirtatious voice I'd ever heard, "So, how was it?"

"Delicious," I whispered, before covering her lips with mine.

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**Haha, toldja. Flufftastic, was it not? And in a sidebar, I am actually afraid of birds after seeing that movie. That's some scary shit. But Rear Window is like the best movie ever. Oh, and pickles and fries are delicious! Please review.**


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